THE INDIAN MUTINY.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LIII, Issue 273, 8 April 1911, Page 10

THE INDIAN MUTINY.

CAWNPORE AND DELHI. SEPOY TREACHERY AND BRITISH VENGEANCE. (Re-told by Stewart Grahame), Death lay in wait for the whole of the unhappy thousands cooped up behind the feeble defences of Cawnpore. Day and night the treacherous Sepoys poured in death-dealing volleys of lead, which shattered the houses, and laid low men, women and children indiscriminately. But still the brave English held out. ''While (| breath remains wc will neve* surrender our womenfolk to the mercy of the black rebels!" declared the whit& soldiers haughtily, and their officers knew that they meant what they said. But a worse enemy than the deadly guns threatened the bleaguered garrison. Neither shot nor steel could keep bacK the dread foe thirst, which tormented the fighters all the livelong <lay. It was the month of June, and the awful Indian sun blazed down from a sky of brass upon the doomed city. The heat was so severe that strong men died hourly from sunstroke, and the tongues of other brave veterans, who toiled at the guns beneath the noonday.sun, swelled in their mouths and choked them. All suffered from a thirst which made a glass of water seem more desirable by far than all the treasures of the Orient, yet there was little or no water to be had, for the fiendish foe had made it well-nigh impossible for any man to live within a dozen yards of the only well available.

When all the Hindoo water-carriers were slain, a civil servant, John Mackillop, volunteered for duty at the well, though Nana Sahib's artillerymen had their guns trained dead on it. Even at night they could sweep its vicinity with grapeshot, each time the creaking of the tackle told them the hated sahibs were seeking to draw water. Yet somehow Maekillop escaped again and again, even when he ventured in broad daylight. Day and night he ran awful risks to procure water for the tormented thousands who clamored for it, and for a whole week escaped injury. But at last his luck deserted him, and he was one day carried into hospital, suffering from a mortal injury. "Is there anything I can do for you?" asked a soldier, when it was known that Maekillop was sinking rapidly. "Yes," gasped the brave civilian, with his last breath. "There was a lady I promised to bring a drink to, but the bucket was split when I got shot, so she won't get it. Will you promise to take some to her?"

Was there ever a grander example of British pluck? Like scores of others at Cawnpore, Maekillop died, game to the last. Before the breath had left his body another volunteer had already taken his place, only to perish in agony a few minutes later.

Of all the heroic courage displayed by the little band of Britishers, during the Indian Mutiny, there was nothing finer than the superb self-sacrifice of that devoted little band, who made continued resistance possible by giving their lives in exchange for water for the garrison.

"This will never do!" declared' Nana Sahib, in disgust, when Cawnpore continued to hold out, in spite of his determined attacks. "Unless I put these accursed English to the sword soon my Sepoys will begin to lose faith in me." In his own tent the treacherous wretch thought over the situation, and decided on a despicable plan. "My word of! honor pledged with Christians need not bind me," he decided. "I can therefore make fair promises, and yet not keep to them. If they can only be induced to trust me, I will soon account for the lot." The terms he proposed seemed so fair that there was great rejoicing throughout the fort when General Wheeler accepted them. "T will let you all go," suggested the Nana, "on condition that you leave behind the treasure and the artillery. Each man may carry his gun and sixty rounds of ammunition. I myself will supply carriages and boats for the women and children, and give you all safe conduct to Allahabad." Relying upon the solemn promise on one who called himself an emperor, the besieged whites never dreamed of the supreme treachery he had prepared for them. Nana Sahib and his creature, Tantia Topee, had laid their plans well. To reach the boats it was necessary for the white garrison to pass through a short ravine which led to the water's edge. How little did Captain Moore think, Its he led the way down the narrow gorge, that every tree and rock concealed a marksman! As a matter of fact, five hundred picked sharpshooters and five heavy guns had been stationed by the landing-place since two hours before daybreak. With Captain Moore at their head, and Major Vibnrt bringing up the rear, the gallant remnant made their way towards the boats. There was no attempt at martial display; the soldiers were too weak even to trouble about keeping step. Leaving behind eleven members of the garrison, mortally wounded, but not yet dead, the bedraggled mob left Cawnpore and entered the defile in a long, straggling column. On getting within sight of the boats, the vanguard were thankful to see that all were provided with straw roofs, to protect them from the heat of the sun, as they imagined. They were soon to learn that the straw roofs were destined to fill a less kindly office! When the last of the garrison had entered the valley the Sepoys threw a strong guard across the top of it, to prevent any of their own kinsfolk from following. Simultaneously, the vanguard of the refugees were already busily embarking. Tn each boat native rowers sat at their oars, but they did not attempt to assist with the wounded. Instead, they sat with a sphinx-like look upon their faces, a,s if they intended mischief. "Hurry up! Push off!" commanded a British officer, when the boat in his charge was full. But the majority of the boats never left the shallows. Of a sudden the clear, incisive notes of a bugle rang out on the air, and the effect upon the boatmen was remarkable. On hearing the signal, for which they had evidently been waiting, the boatmen suddenly sprang overboard, and splashed towards the shore. Then, for the first time, the Britishers smelt treachery. With a cry of rage each man prepared to sell his life dearly. But the Sepoys had bad enough of fighting with the British. A massacre was more in their line now, and the buglecall was. of course, the signal for it. Before the last notes had ceased to echo from the walls of the ravine, the dread work had commenced. The reason why straw roofs had been provided for the boats was soon made plain when they were set fire to. From ! near by. and from across the ravine, the five big guns opened fire on the Europeans, and. simultaneously, the five hundred riflemen leapt from their biding and poured in a concentrated fire upon the refugees. The burning boats were in such shallow water that the troopers tried to push off in vain. Only one boat got clear, and that one was so heavily laden, with over one hundred persons on board, that

it could only make slow progress. Of those in it only four eventually escaped; the rest were shot from the shore, or else brought back to land and reserved for a worse fate by the Nana's soldiers. Those who were still in the ravine fell (first —their fate was more merciful than tliat of those upon the point of embarkation whom cold steel slew. "In the boat where I was to have gone," related Mrs. Bradshaw, wife of a bandsman of the 56th, who was spared because she was a half-caste, "were the schoolmistress and twenty-two misses. General Wheeler came last, in a palanquin.' As the general got out, head foremost, the trooper gave him a cut with his sword on the neck, and he fell into the water. My son was killed near him. I saw it, alas, nlas! "Some were stabbed with bayonets, others cut down. Little infants were torn to pieces; other children were stabbed and thrown into the river. The schoolgirls were burnt to death. I saw their clothes and hair catch fire. In the water, a few paces off, by the next boat, we saw the youngest daughter of Colonel Williams. A Sepoy was going to kill her with his bayonet. She said, '■My father was always kind to Sepoys.' He turned away, and just then a villager struck her on the head with his club, and she fell into the water."

While the Ganges turned crimson with the blood of women and children, Nana Sahib strode up and down before the door of his tent at a distance, eagerly awaiting news. When he heard that all had turned out just as he had planned it, he was well pleased. On being asked what should be done with the surviving prisoners, he replied, with a fiendish grin: "Kill the men, but keep alive the women." Seventeen men and one hundred and twenty-five women and children had remained alive after the Sepoys were glutted with slaughter. As soon as the Nana's order arrived the former were shot in cold blood, while the latter were marched back through the town and trust into Savada House, a filthy barracks, vacated for them by a native regiment.

Two days later shouts of triumph announced the return of a band of the Nana's soldiers, who had captured the boatload of Britishers who made such a brave attempt to escape. In the boat were sixty men, twenty j five ladies and four children, nearly all of whom were sorely wounded. When the Nana ordered the men to be seated upon the ground and shot, the unhappy women —delicate-ly-nurtured ladies most of them—flung their arms about their husbands' nesks and cried: "Let us die with our husbands!"

But this mercy was denied them. Brutally the Nana's soldiers tore them apart (all except Mrs. Boyce, the doctor's wife, who clung to him so tightly that they let her perish with him). ' What happened next serves to show how British soldiers will face death, so nobly as to compel the unwilling admiration of their murderers.

"The padre (chaplain) called out to the Nana, and requested leave to read prayers before they died. The Nana granted it, and the padre's hands were loosened so far as to enable him to take a small book from his pocket, from which he read," relates a native who saw the incident. "After the padre had read a few pages, he shut the book, and the sahibs shook hands all round. Then the Sepoys fired. One sahib rolled one way, one another, as they sat. But they were not dead; only wounded. So the Sepoys went in, and finished them off with their swords."

The fate of the men was merciful beside that of their wives. These unhappy ladies, accustomed all their lives to the height of luxury, were removed from Savada Hall and crowded together —206 of them—in a tiny building not far from the river. Without furniture or bedding, without a spoon or plate between them, they existed in these disgusting quarters upon the unleavened dough and lentil porridge which it sometimes pleased their captors to fling in to them, Can you conceive the horrors of their situation, or wonder that those whom disease swept away counted themselves fortunate? Having lost husbands, parents and children, in the siege and afterwards, there were many of the ladies who had no wish to live, but' others had by no means given up hope. Every day they listened, in the hope of hearing the sound of firing which should tell that their countrymen were coming to the rescue. Alas! Tliey never guessed that the ferocious Nana would seize on Havelock's advance us a pretext of putting them all to the sword. Yet that was what happened. On July 10, Nana Sahib, furious to find that his hold on India was slipping, while the British generals were carrying all before them, determined to be revenged. Cruel though they were, his own Sepoys refused to do the Nana's bidding, so he procured five peasants, two of whom were butchers, to carry out his vile scheme. Sabres in hand, the five wretcnes entered and began to.attack the two hundred helpless victims of the Nana's rage . Their terrible screams apprised the bloodthirsty villain that his orders were being carried out. By the time the moon rnse the men had just finished their abominable work. When morning came, the bodies w«re dragged out, says an eye-witness, most of them by the hair of the head. Those whose clothes were valuable were robbed of them. Three boys were found to be still alive, having been in some way overlooked. The eldest was about seven years old, the youngest five. They were all killed and flung down the well," where the bodies of the others were thrown also. By thus, getting rid of the last of his hostages, Nana Sahib fondly hoped that the British generals would'think it not worth while to attack him further. Never was he more greatly mistaken. The news of the massacre at Cawnpore made Britishers drunk with anger, and determined to wreak an awful vengeance on the foul murderers of women and young children. Nothing could atone for the murder of British women and children at the lwinds of black-skinned and black-hearted natives; it was only possible for their fellow-countrymen to avenge thorn, From when the details of "the massacre at Cawnpore became known, until the conclusion of the Mutiny, white soldiers rivalled the Sepoys themselves in bloodthirsty ferocity. And the lust for vengeance made men so careless of their lives that amazing deeds of gallantry were, again and again, brought to a successful conclusion, in spite of impossible odds. Among such deeds the storming of Delhi on September 14 takes front rank. This city was very strongly fortified. Its lofty walls were so well defended by the revolted King of Delhi that it would be impossible for any troops to make a breach in it. Yet two brave young officers of the Engineers, Howe' and Salkeld, assisted by three sapper sergeants, Carmichael, Burgess and Smith undertook to do it. •Soon after dawn on the mornmo- of September 14, the little party made a dash for the Kashmir Gate, which they intended to blow up. With them went Bugler Hawthorne, of the 52nd, and eight loyal native sappers, each of whom earned a hag of gunpowder, which, if struck by a bullet, would have blown all to pieces. j

When the Sepoys saw the little band advancing towards their walls they concentrated a heavy fire upon them. Bullets whistled past the devoted few, but they seemed to bear charmed lives. Never pausing to consider what would happen if a well-aimed shot should strike their dangerous burden, they rushed straight towards the Kashmir Gate. On the way there was a broad ditch to be crossed, but, by an almost incredible piece of luck, they found wide open a harrier gate which crossed it. Though five hundred rJllemcn poured in a deadly volley, the whole party succeeded in getting into a ditch, which served as cover, without injury, although their clothes were torn to tatters by the bullets.

"Now comes the tickling bit!" exclaimed Howe, as he looked towards the great double gate by which Colonel Campbell hoped to get admission to the city. "Are you ready, Salkcld?" '•Quite ready," returned the other, as he loaded himself and his companion with powder-bags. The enemy were so startled by their amazing pluck, as the two calmly left cover and rushed at the city walls, that they momentarily ceased fire in order o watch proceedings! That was jugt the sort of opportunity the two young Enginced officers wanted. Before the Sepoys realised what they were doing the bags were laid in position, and those who had contrived it were in full retreat. Unfortunately they could not get away so easily as they had reached the walls. By leaping into the ditch Howe escapee? unhurt (only to be killed a few weeks later). But Salkeld was unlucky. He stopped behind to light the powder-bags himself, but he fell mortally wounded before he could accomplish that object. Seeing him fall, Sergeant Burgess sprang forward. With a great effort Salkcld handed him the port-fire and ordered him to fire the powder. Burgess jumped instantly to obey, but before he could light the fuse he fell stone dead. "Carmichael, your turn!" gasped Salkcld.

In no way deterred by the fate of his companions, Sergeant Carmichael grabbed the port-fire and advanced, while lead rained around him.

"I've done it!" he oried exultantly. Next moment he hiccoughed exultantly, ns a bullet penetrated his lungs and wounded him mortally. From his safe cover Sergeant Smith watched proceedings, burning for a chance of deathless glory. Thinking Carmichael had failed, he also sprang forward and grabbed the portfire. From the top of the Kashmir Gate the Sepojjs aimed at him a perfect hail of lead as he did the deed which gained him the V.C. but with a superb spirit he reached the ;>owder-bags unscathed, only to find that Carmichael had succeeded.

"Look our for yourselves!" he screamed, as he raced back again and leapt into the ditch. He was not a moment too soon. He had barely ducked his head when, with a stupendous roar, the explosion came. Right and left, high into the air blew the Kashmir Gate and the Sepoys who Mefended it. With his last breath the dying Carmichael joined with Salkeld (also mortally wounded) and the others in a ringing cheer. Next moment Bugler Hawthorne, of the 52nd, leapt to his feet, with the ruins of the gateway falling about his ears, and sounued the stirring thrice repeated signal which won him the V.C. "The gate is won!" yelled Colonel Campbell, when he saw the great explossion. "On, lads, to victory!" "Remember Cawnpore!" screamed the men of the third column, as, with an im-. petuous rush, they crossed the bridge, rushed through the broken gate, slew the defenders of the main guard, cleared the water bastion, and established themselves firmly in the city, to await the coming of the other columns.